History Repeats Itself
by MBP
Summary: This is a continuation of Ponyboy's Theme... just a few years later... but history, unfortunately, does have a tendency to repeat itself.
1. Intro

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders.

I have been a teacher for eight years now. Every year there are students who impact my life in some way, and some do this more than others. I know, though, that no one will ever have the same kind of effect on me as Ponyboy Curtis.

Not only was Ponyboy a student in my class four years ago, but in the years since then, and especially since he's graduated, he's become a friend. His writing impressed me so much the year that I taught him that I couldn't help but push him to get some of it published, and I was completely validated when our local publishing houses thought as highly of his work as I did. I was even more gratified, though, when Pony went to college… and decided to major in English. We kept in touch through letters and the occasional phone call when he was on vacation and wanted to get together for lunch. I couldn't have been happier to see how much he'd grown up, and I didn't know if he knew just how much I had come to appreciate him.

I never thought, though, that his sophomore year in college would be a repeat of his sophomore year in high school … or that I'd have the chance to prove it…


	2. Home life

I got home from school that late October afternoon, and my mother met me at the door. She had my son in her arms, and I grinned when he reached for me, making those cooing noises he only seems to make when I'm around. I took him from her and kissed her hello.

"How was everything today?" I asked as we walked into the house. I kissed the top of James' head and put him into his seat so we could talk for a minute before she left to go back to her own house.

"Everything was fine," my mom said as she smiled at James. I looked at him too. I'm still amazed by how much I love him. I've always loved and felt protective of my students, but I never knew how much I would love a child of my own. I'm so glad I do now.

"Sarah," my mom said, and I turned back to her. She looked serious, I suddenly realized.

"What happened?" I asked. I was calm because James was obviously fine, but I could already sense that something else was possibly wrong.

"You got a phone call just a little while ago. It was that former student of yours with the funny name… I wrote it down. It's like an animal or something?"

She got up to look for the paper where she'd written the message, but I stopped her.

"Mom, it had to be Ponyboy. What did he say? Why did he call?"

She shrugged. "He wouldn't say on the phone, but he asked me to have you call him as soon as you got home. He didn't leave a number, but he said to tell you he's home."

My heart sank. This couldn't be a good thing. Pony's supposed to be in college. He's not supposed to be home.

"Do you have another few minutes before you need to leave?" I asked her. "I want to call him back, but I have a feeling I'll need my full attention for this phone call. Can you watch James a little while longer?"

"Of course," she said. I got up to use the phone in the bedroom, and she lifted James out of his seat, chattering to him. I marveled again at how lucky I was to have her watch him during the day. There was no way my husband and I would be able to afford daycare or for me to stay home.

Once I got into my bedroom, I closed the door, sat down on the side of the bed, and just stared at the phone. I knew I had to call him back, but I also knew that he couldn't have been calling for a good reason. If it were a good thing, he'd have been calling from college. I dreaded finding out why he'd called, but I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. If he were calling me, it was because he needed to. And I needed to know why. Pony may have become a friend, but now that I was a mother, I was even more protective of him than I'd been when he was younger. I was finally realizing just how much every boy needed a mother, and I knew that he'd always miss his. I usually tried to help in whatever way I could. I took a deep breath and picked up the phone.


	3. Pony's phone call

The phone had already rung three times when someone finally picked it up. I knew right away that it had to be Pony, but it sure didn't sound like him. The voice was strained when it said hello.

"Hi, is Pony there? This is…" Here I paused. I was never sure what alumni should call me. I settled on the name I knew would ring the most bells. "This is Mrs. Nelson."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for longer than there should have been, so I said, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

I had the phone pressed to my ear, and all of a sudden I heard it. It sounded like a muffled sob, and then Pony choked, "Ms. N, it's me."

I let out a deep breath and said softly, "What happened? Talk to me, Pony."

He sighed and said, "I don't know how to say it. It's … there was a car accident."

My breath caught in my throat. "Are you ok?"

Here he paused again, and I could hear his own shaky breath. "I wasn't even in the car. Neither were Darry or Soda. We're all ok. But…" and he trailed off. I tried to wait patiently, but patience was suddenly becoming harder and harder for me to grasp. I knew this was bad. Very, very bad.

"Pony," I said, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice but not really succeeding. "Pony, just tell me what happened. Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You know that."

"It's – it's Two-Bit," he finally gasped. "He was killed on impact." The words were suddenly pouring out alongside the tears he was no longer trying to suppress. "We just got the call from his mother. He was by himself. The cops don't know what happened, but he wrapped his car around a tree. They don't think he was drunk, though…" he mumbled.

I sat there, staring at my wedding picture but not really seeing it. I hardly knew what to say and found myself saying, "When do you want me to come over?"

Pony was quiet for a minute, but then he said, "I don't want you to put yourself out. I know you have James, and Chris wouldn't want you leaving him alone with the baby. Maybe I'll come in to school tomorrow?"

I let out a breath I hardly knew I'd been holding. "Ok," I said softly. "If you're sure you'll be ok tonight, then you know where to find me in school. Just come to my classroom, all right?"

"Yeah, I'll probably be there early. Is that – is that ok?"

My heart broke at his hesitancy, and I wished I could see him that night, but I knew that this was probably best. I knew his brothers and friends would all be there anyway. I wanted to see all of them, but I knew I'd more than likely get my chance in the next week or so. There would be more than enough occasions where there wouldn't even be a choice.

"Of course, Pony. You come in whenever you want. I'm sure I'll be able to find time. But if you wanted to know, I'm free at 9, ok?"

"Ok," he said. He suddenly seemed calmer, and I knew it wasn't vanity to think that knowing he would see me was able to at least give him a little more reassurance. He may have been in college, but he knew he'd always be a kid to me, and sometimes that seemed to make him feel better… more secure and protected, I guess.

I was ready to hang up when he said, "Ms. N… thanks. I don't know – I don't know what I would do if I hadn't gotten to talk to you."

"I'm glad you called," I said with complete honesty. "I'm glad you knew you should. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," Pony said. "I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks. For everything."

He hung up, and I sat there, my knuckles white as I grasped the receiver to my ear. I forced myself to put down the phone, and I took a few deep breaths before I went out to rejoin my mother and my son. I explain what had happened to her, and her hand went to her mouth.

"Sarah, that's terrible. You're obviously going to go to the wake and funeral, right?"

"Oh, Mom, of course. Pony would need me there anyway."

She suddenly looked at me closely, put James into his seat, and said, "Come here," and without another word she put her arms around me. I sagged in her embrace, and she rubbed my hair as I suddenly had to fight back the tears that jumped to my eyes.

"You knew this boy too, didn't you?" she asked gently.

I nodded against her. "He was never my student," I said, my voice suddenly tight, "but I got to know him through the Curtises over the past couple of years. What a nice boy…"


	4. The visit

A/N: This might be the longest chapter I've ever written for one of these stories. I guess that's what happens when I base these descriptions on personal experiences. This is a little too autobiographical...

I got to school very early the next morning. I'd had a lot of trouble sleeping that night, so when I woke up for the fifth time at 5 am, I decided to just get out of bed and go. I knew I wouldn't be getting much more than another 15 minutes anyway.

The first place I went when I got in was the principal's office. I left him a note about Two-Bit, but I had to remind myself to write "Keith," which was how the faculty knew him. I'd known him better through Pony, so I knew him by the name his friends had called him. Had called… I felt a chill run down my spine as I quickly shoved the note into Bill's mailbox and hurried out of the office. I couldn't believe I was going to have to start thinking about him in the past tense.

I had somehow made it through my first class of the day and was sitting at my desk and staring into space when Bill walked in. He leaned against my desk and looked at me sadly.

"Thanks for the note, Sarah, but I got the news last night. How did you find out?"

I sighed and sat back in my chair, running my hands through my hair. "Ponyboy Curtis called me. He actually said he'd come in today, so if I get any more information from him, I'll let you know."

Bill nodded and reached over and squeezed my shoulder. He cleared his throat.

"How is he?" He looked like he already knew the answer, though, and was dreading my confirmation. Bill had grown close to Pony during his senior year, and he was worried about him. That was clear. As I'd learned the year he was in my class, to know Pony is to love him. Bill had discovered that too.

I shook my head. "Not so good, but you knew that. I'll … I'll feel better after I see him. Regardless of how bad it is."

"Yeah," Bill said softly, and I knew he wanted to say something else, so I just waited silently until he said hesitantly, "if he's up to it, will you ask him to stop by my office? I'd like to see him too, but if he's not in good shape, I'll understand. Just tell him I'll see him at the funeral or something."

I smiled at Bill. "Of course I'll tell him. But don't worry… he'll probably want to see you too."

Bill nodded and stood up straighter. "Ok. Thanks, Sarah. I'll see you later."

He walked out of my classroom, and I glanced at the clock. It was almost 9. The next class would be starting soon, so I stepped out into the hallway to see if I needed to move the traffic along. And I stopped short. I should have known he'd get there earlier than 9.

He was walking toward my classroom in jeans and a long sleeve shirt, his shoulders hunched and his head down. He looked up just as I caught sight of him, and our eyes locked. And I realized that I hardly knew what to say.

It was as if no one else were in the hallway, and luckily for both of us, the bell rang just then, and the few remaining stragglers found their ways into their classrooms. I walked toward him slowly, not knowing what to expect. He had grown up from the sensitive teenager he'd been in my class, but he was still Ponyboy, and he still felt everything so deeply… especially things like this.

We approached each other silently, and his arms opened as if of their own accord. I opened mine as well, and we came together in a hug that we both clearly needed. As we stood there, his grip got tighter, so I tightened mine as well. And the minute I did, he let out a wounded noise, and I felt his shoulders start to shake. I didn't let go, just rubbed his back until the sounds of sniffling slowed, and then I muttered, "want to go into my classroom?" He nodded against me, so I let go and turned to walk in without taking the time to look him in the eye.

Once we were in the room with the door closed, I really took a look at him, and my heart broke. His eyes were red and swollen, and his clothes were wrinkled. I could see he'd had as much trouble sleeping as I had. He probably hadn't even changed his clothes from yesterday. But he just looked at me and shook his head.

"This wasn't supposed to happen again," he choked. "We were supposed to be done with this stuff."

He dropped into his old seat and put his face in his hands. I pulled a chair up next to him and put my arm around him. There was nothing I could say to make any of this better, so I waited to speak until he was calmer.

"When are the arrangements for?" I knew this wasn't exactly a change of subject, but it was something that would make him think, and he kind of needed that right now.

He let out a deep breath and sat back in the chair that suddenly seemed too small for him. He'd grown a lot in the years since I'd met him, and now he was six feet tall. He was the same height as Soda, as a matter of fact, and he looked more like him than he'd ever acknowledge. His hair was no longer greased – one of the best changes that college had brought, but he still had that light-colored hair and those sparkling green eyes. Only they weren't sparkling today in quite the way I'd come to expect.

"Well, when Darry spoke to Mrs. Mathews, she said that the wake would be the beginning of next week, so probably Monday? She wasn't sure yet if she'd have enough money for two days. Probably not. And then the funeral would be Tuesday."

I nodded. "Ok, I'll write it down."

Pony almost sagged with relief. "You'll go to both, right?"

He sounded anxious, and I hastened to reassure him. "Of course I will. I want to see your brothers and Steve too. How – how are they all doing?"

Pony's face twisted, and I was afraid he might start crying again, but he managed to keep the tears at bay… for the moment.

"They're holding up ok, I guess. I know they want to see you, though. They told me to say hi to you and to tell you that they REALLY hope to see you on Monday."

I swallowed hard. I wanted to see them too, but I knew how hard this was going to be. "Well, tell them I'll be there. I'll be there for all of it."

Pony nodded. He cleared his throat and glanced at the clock. It was 9:20.

"How much more time do you have before your next class?" he asked. He seemed calmer now that he had secured my support.

"Uh… about 20 minutes. Principal Walters wanted to see you, though. Do you think…?"

I trailed off, but he nodded quickly.

"That'd be good. I'd like to see him."

I smiled. "Great. He'll be so glad."

Pony rubbed his face dry, stood up and was walking toward the door when he suddenly glanced at me. "You're coming too, right?"

My heart sank, but I jumped to my feet as if I'd been planning to go all along.

"Of course."

We walked into Bill's office together a couple of minutes later and waited to go in until we got the go-ahead from his secretary. When he looked up and saw who it was, he jumped up and came out from behind his desk. He and Pony shook hands, and Bill motioned for us to sit down but, to my surprise, Pony said he couldn't stay long.

"I need to get back home," he explained apologetically to Bill. "Darry and Soda are helping Mrs. Mathews, and they told me they'd need my help too."

Bill nodded understandingly, and I stood by silently while they talked for a few minutes. I had suddenly realized that the bell was going to ring in about five minutes when Pony indicated that he needed to leave. He and Bill shook hands again, and then Pony turned to me.

"Maybe I'll talk to you this weekend?" he asked softly, and I could hear the pleading tone he was trying to hide.

I nodded and hugged him tightly.

"Whenever you want," I told him. He smiled weakly at me, turned to nod at Bill, and then walked out of the office.

Bill and I looked at each other, and he said, "He's not taking this well, is he."

It was a statement, not a question. I was glad. I didn't think I could answer if I'd tried.


	5. Steve's phone call

It was being a relaxing weekend (or as relaxing as it could possibly be) when the phone rang on Sunday afternoon. Chris, James, and I were sitting in our family room watching television, and Chris picked it up. I was so busy playing with James that I hardly listened to the conversation until I heard his tone soften considerably as he said, "Yeah, she's right here. Just one second."

He reached for James with one hand as he handed me the phone with the other, mouthing, "Steve?" and looking very concerned.

Steve Randle. I was surprised, but I wasn't. Not only had he been in my class a few years ago, but he was practically a brother to Ponyboy. He had gotten my number from Pony a while ago when he had a question for me about something for one of his younger cousins who was still in the high school.

Steve wanted everyone to think he was tough and that he didn't care, but he also knew that he wasn't and that he did… and that I saw through it. I'd seen through it right from the beginning, but he finally acknowledged that years ago when he and his friends had organized a memorial service when their friend Johnny was killed. He'd had a hard time keeping it together then, and I knew that he cared much more than he let on. I picked up the phone.

"Hey Steve," I said softly, "long time no talk."

"Yeah," he said with a short, sharp laugh. "Sorry to disturb you at home. I just…" he trailed off and then said with complete bewilderment, "I don't know. I don't know why I called. I don't think I even realized that yours was the number I was calling."

My lips twisted in a wry smile. I knew why he was calling. I knew why he'd doggedly kept in touch for all these years with a teacher with whom he hadn't connected until he was out of her class. I gave him the one thing he'd never gotten at home and the one thing he couldn't ask his friends for. (Only Soda could have given it to him anyway.) I could care, and he wouldn't feel threatened, pitied or babied. So I asked the one question I knew he probably hadn't been asked in the time since the accident.

"How are you holding up?" I kept my voice as gentle as possible, and I heard him sigh as his defenses rushed out of him, leaving him like a deflated balloon.

"I … I don't know," he answered honestly. "When I first found out, I just kept breaking down. I couldn't stop. It was the first time in my life that had ever happened. It was … it was scary," he confessed.

I murmured my understanding, afraid to speak lest it make him stop talking.

"But since we found out," he continued, "we've all been so focused on helping Mrs. Mathews that I haven't really had much time to think. I kind of… prefer it that way." He sounded like he felt guilty. I couldn't let that happen.

"I can understand that," I told him softly. "And listen, Steve… when you do have to think about it tomorrow… at the wake… well, I'll be there. I promise."

He sighed again, but I could hear the relief in his voice even as he said, "Yeah, Pony said you'd be there for everything. That's… that's good. Really, really good."

I knew this seemed obvious, but I felt the need to say, "and I really want to see _all_ of you, you know."

"I know," he said too quickly which let me know that he probably did… but he'd also needed to hear it. "Ok, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'm sorry for calling," he started to say, but I stopped him.

"Don't apologize, Steve. I'm glad we got to talk. And I'm glad I'm going to see you tomorrow."

"Thanks," he almost whispered and he hung up quickly.

I turned back to where Chris was sitting on the couch with James in the crook of his arm. James's eyes were closing, and Chris looked away from the T.V. as soon as he heard me hang up.

"He's not doing so great, huh?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question. In the years that I've gotten to know these kids, so has he. He couldn't worry about them as much as I did since he didn't know them as well, but he did like them all very much and felt terrible about everything that was happening.

I nodded and settled down on his other side, letting out a deep breath as I turned my attention back to my own family.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's going to be terrible."


	6. The wake

A/N: Once again... this is a little TOO autobiographical... and that's why it's so long.

* * *

When I got to school on Monday morning, I was gratified to see that I wasn't the only teacher wearing black. I knew a few other teachers were planning on going to the wake that night, but I hadn't had any idea of just how many. I don't know why I was surprised, though. Two-Bit had been in our school longer than most students. It would be an understatement to say he wasn't a great student, but he sure liked school. He never seemed to want to leave, and we all appreciated his lively, funny personality in spite of how crazy he drove those teachers who attempted to get any work out of him. They loved him anyway, though. I could see that in their faces that Monday. 

Brad, the science teacher who worked down the hall from me, told me he planned to go to the wake at 6:00, so we agreed to go together. He'd had Two-Bit as a student, so he was clearly rattled by what had happened, and I knew he'd need my support as much as the kids I was going to see. I'd need his too. I also knew that.

My Mondays normally seem to drag anyway, but this one couldn't have gone slowly enough. I wanted to see all of these kids more than anything, but I also dreaded seeing them more than anything because I knew just how hard it would end up being. It wasn't only because of Ponyboy. I'd become close to his whole family and some of his friends. There was no doubt that he wouldn't be the only one relying on me. If that were to be the case, Steve wouldn't have called me, and they wouldn't have told him to tell me that they wanted me to go to everything. There was no denying that I was headed into one of the hardest nights I'd ever have.

When the day finally ended, I called home to check on James and see how my mother was faring. This would be a longer day than usual for her since she was going to stay there until Chris got home. I was going to go to the wake straight from school. She seemed to be fine and in a much happier place than I was. I wished with all my heart that none of this had happened and that I could be there too, but there was no changing history, unfortunately. There had been too many times I'd futilely wished for that power.

I sat in the English department's office, trying not to watch the clock as I made a halfhearted attempt to grade some papers. When it was almost 6, I went into Brad's classroom, and he turned to look at me. The look of dread on his face must have mirrored mine because he smiled briefly.

"Let's get this over with?" he asked with a heavy sigh. I let out an equally deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah, let's go," I said, swallowing hard. I'd had trouble eating today, and I couldn't wait to just get there and have my worst fears realized. I knew I wasn't exaggerating how bad this was going to be. That would be impossible.

Once Brad and I were in our cars, we followed each other to the funeral home, but I lost sight of him when we parked, so I figured I'd find him once I got inside. I walked up to the front door, took another deep breath, and slowly opened it. I was confronted by pretty much the sight I'd come to expect from too many years of attending these types of functions. There was a wall of people I would always think of as kids, looking out of place in their formal clothing and serious expressions. I was used to seeing them in jeans and t-shirts, joking around. That's how I wished I could always see them. And then I locked eyes with Steve.

I almost didn't recognize him. I'd never seen him look this serious. When I sat with him at Johnny's memorial years ago, he was obviously sad, but he'd already had some time to get used to the idea of Johnny being gone. One look at his face told me that he was right now, at this very moment, starting to realize that he would never see Two-Bit again. I went straight to him as his arms went out, and I hugged him more tightly than I'd ever hugged him before. His arms tightened around me, and we started to rock back and forth silently, holding onto each other. I didn't know when he'd be ready to let go, but I was perfectly willing to wait until he was. It took a lot longer than I expected.

When Steve finally let go, we looked at each other, and his lower lip was quivering, but he was still somewhat in control. He couldn't, however, bring himself to speak, so when I told him softly that I was going to go pay my respects, he just nodded and stumbled to the back of the funeral home. I knew I'd find him later.

Brad and I walked into the awful room with the coffin together. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt my eyes start to well up. I took a few deep breaths, willing myself to remain calm. He and I knelt in front of Two-Bit together, and all I could think was… I'd give anything to hear your silly sense of humor just one more time…

When we stood up and approached Mrs. Mathews, she smiled at me, and I marveled at her calm and her strength. We hugged, and I choked out, "I am so sorry" before I fled the room in tears. I didn't even look behind me, didn't even realize that Brad was breaking down as well when Mrs. Mathews told him he was the only teacher whose class Two-Bit had ever claimed to love.

I wandered back into the entrance area, and Pony caught me. He took one look at me, swallowed his own tears, and hugged me to him. I was vaguely aware of Brad coming out of the room after me, but I only pulled back from Pony when I heard him sobbing behind me. I turned to see Soda hugging him for a moment until he pulled himself away and stumbled away from the kids to be alone. I was looking after Brad when I heard a noise I recognized but had been dreading. Brad had done it. Soda was crying. I turned to him, and he took one look at me before he completely broke down.

I put my arms around him as he buried his face in my shoulder, and I held onto him until he was finally calm enough to let go.

"I need to go in there now," he whispered. "Will you … will you still be here when I get out?"

"I _promise_," I said firmly. He looked at me once, must have determined I was serious, and then turned and walked into the room. I went to find Brad.

I was still standing with Brad five minutes later when I realized that Soda was probably out of the viewing room already, so I made my way back up to the entrance. The first person to catch my eye was Darry, who looked at me grimly and said, "Soda's downstairs. I think … I think he needs you."

I nodded resolutely and followed Darry down the staircase situated in the middle of the room. Now that I had people relying on me, I was able to keep it together. I always seem to operate that way. And he was right. Soda definitely needed someone, and I didn't know how many people he would accept any type of comfort from. He was sitting on a bench outside the bathroom, his head in his hands, sobbing as if his heart would break. It probably already had. I sat down next to him, put my arm around him, and was rubbing his back when I noticed for the first time that Steve was sitting across from us. He was staring into space, but tears were slipping down his cheeks. He seemed completely unaware of them, and I waited for Soda to calm down enough, so I could give Steve five minutes of his own.

By the time both of them were calmer, I was ready to go home, but I still had yet to talk to Ponyboy. I went back upstairs to find him before I left, and I was completely out of luck until I finally walked outside. He was standing in the dark next to the funeral home, smoking a cigarette, his eyes red and his hands shaking. I approached him cautiously.

"Pony," I said as gently as possible, but he jumped. He relaxed when he saw me and dropped his cigarette. He looked down at it ruefully.

"I haven't smoked in a year," he said, sighing, as he ground it under his heel. "I just… I couldn't calm down. It was the only thing I could think of."

I nodded silently, leaning next to him against the wall of the funeral home. "How are you doing?" I asked softly, not looking at him. I learned years ago that Pony talks better without eye contact. He didn't let me down.

"It's just… I can't believe it. That can't be Two-Bit in there," he mumbled. "And tomorrow's going to be _awful_…" he trailed off before mumbling something I missed.

"What?" I asked, and he said "you're coming to the funeral, right?"

I looked at him in surprise. "Pony, I told you already. I'll be there for everything. I'll even… I'll even sit with you tomorrow if you want…"

He looked up, and I caught the relief in his eyes. "Ok," he said quickly, and I nodded. I looked at my watch and gasped.

"Pony, I've got to go. I've been here an hour and a half. I'll see you tomorrow, though. I'll meet you guys outside the church?"

He nodded. "Definitely. Thank you… for everything. We all needed you here."

I smiled as much as my lips would allow. "I'm glad I was here, Pony. Try to get some sleep tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll try." He hugged me quickly. "See you tomorrow. Night, Ms. N."

"Night, Pony," I said. I hated to walk away, but I knew I had to get home. Tomorrow would be another long, draining day.


	7. The funeral service

A/N: Unfortunately... more autobiography...

* * *

The next morning dawned sunny and cool, in complete contrast to the mood of the day. It should have been raining. It always feels like it should be raining when there's a funeral. I wasn't complaining, though. This whole thing was going to be hard enough without having to contend with bad weather too.

I was meeting Brad at the school, so we could go to the funeral together. Chris was once again going to be home with James, but they were both still asleep when I left, so I kissed both of them lightly and eased my way out of the house, praying that James would let Chris sleep until at least 9.

Brad was waiting for me in his car when I got there, so I parked in my usual spot and hopped into his passenger seat. He reached over to hug me, and I squeezed him tightly.

"How are you doing?" I asked softly. Yesterday had been a lot harder for him than I'd expected, and I was worried about how he was going to handle everything today.

He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot and began driving.

"Well, I barely slept last night. But," and here he paused to pull his tie out of his jacket. From the anguished smile on his face, I knew what he wasn't saying. Well, that and the fact that the tie was obviously not something he would have ever picked out for himself.

"Two Bit got it for you, didn't he?" I asked around the lump in my throat. He nodded, and I could see the tears in his own eyes. We didn't speak again until we got to the church. After got out of the car and walked over to where people were starting to gather in front, we both started looking for who I had started to think of as "our" kids. I saw Ponyboy first. I didn't think I'd ever seen him look so pale. He came straight over to me, put his arms around me quickly and muttered in my ear, "you'll sit with us, right?"

I let go of him and nodded. I was starting to calm down now that I had other people to worry about. (This was one of the reasons I'd always known I'd be a good mother.)

As we were standing there, Soda, Steve, and Darry approached us, and I was struck by how small this group of friends had become … and it hurt. I motioned towards the doors because I wasn't ready to hear them talk to each other, so we walked inside silently, taking seats toward the front. If I hadn't promised to sit with them, I know Brad and I would have sat much further back.

Somehow as we filed in, we ended up with Pony on one side of me and Soda on the other. I offered to switch seats, but they glanced at each other quickly and then shook their heads. I sighed inwardly, hoping I would be up to this very hard task.

I was… until we all heard Mrs. Mathews break. That was all it took for the tears to well up in my eyes. I blinked furiously, unable to imagine what she must be going through, unwilling to process what this all meant to her… that she had lost her child, the baby she had brought into this world. James flashed through my mind, and the tears I was trying to suppress slipped down my cheeks. I reached up to wipe them away and suddenly became aware of a movement to my left. Soda had hunched over in his seat, his head in his hands, and he was silently shaking with sobs. I put one hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and on his other side, Steve squeezed his other shoulder, taking deep shuddering breaths of his own. I watched him helplessly until Darry put his arm around him, and as Steve almost collapsed against him, I started rubbing Soda's back in small circles. He was still crying when Pony broke down; the sounds of all of these people crying were too much for him, but I was reluctant to abandon Soda. I glanced over at him and was gratified to see Brad nod at me, his own eyes full, but his arm around Pony. We all stayed that way until the service ended, and that was when we had to stand up and watch the service end in a way none of us were quite ready to see.

We all stood slowly, unsure of our balance, and I noticed that we all seemed to let go of each other and wrap into ourselves, self-isolating into our own worlds of misery for the five minutes it took them to carry Two Bit out. I couldn't stop the tears from sliding down my face, but I was starting to regain control of my breathing as we exited our pew. That is… until I caught sight of Darry. He'd tried so hard for the entire service. He'd tried to be the other adult for these boys, so they'd have someone else to lean on. He'd tried, and he'd almost succeeded. I'd almost managed to forget that, to me, he was still a kid. I'd almost managed to forget that he'd lost Two Bit too. And then I glanced behind me to make sure they were all there as I walked out of the church, and I saw Darry's face. He was frowning, and it was a frown I recognized both from years of working with teenagers and, now, from my own child. It was the grimace that was supposed to keep the tears at bay, but whenever a kid needed to use it, it also meant that the tears were perilously close.

Pony tried to put his arm around me, but I shook my head and whispered, "I need to talk to someone first." He nodded, looking puzzled, but as he turned to see where I was looking, his face dropped, and I could see that he recognized the look on Darry's face too.

"Yeah, go ahead," he muttered, almost pushing me in his oldest brother's direction. I could see he was grateful that I was going to do this because I could also see that he was afraid to.

I approached Darry as the rest of the mourners sluggishly made their way out of the church, and I stopped in front of him. He looked down at me, and the frown intensified. He knew what I was capable of, and I could see through this frown that he was afraid of letting someone else help him. I couldn't let that happen.

I reached up to hug him, and he hugged me back, squeezing tightly, and then ready to let go… but I didn't. I just held on, and then I could feel his arms tighten around me in response. I could feel his breathing becoming uneven, and I could hear the sniffles he was trying to hide. He buried his face in my shoulder, and I smoothed his hair silently. He didn't need me – or want me – to say anything. He just needed someone to understand that he was hurting too. That much I could do.


	8. The cemetery

When Brad and I finally got into the car, we were both quiet for a good ten minutes until he said, "I'm glad you did that for Darry today. I think, sometimes, that he needs us more than any of the younger ones put together because he never seems to understand that he's still so young himself."

I nodded, looking straight ahead as we followed the funeral procession, the back of Darry's head visible in the driver's seat in the car in front of ours. "Yeah, I'm glad too," I said softly, remembering the look on Darry's face when we'd finally let go. He stared at me with a hint of fear in his eyes as if he were worried that I might say something to make him feel even more vulnerable, but I'd just given him a small smile and motioned for him to walk with me as we left the church. And as we walked out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the church, Pony came over to us and slung his arm around his oldest brother, also not saying anything. I was glad to see that he realized that Darry needed taking care of too.

I was hardly paying attention when Brad said, "I'm worried about how Soda is going to handle the cemetery. Will you help him? I'll help Steve. I think Darry and Pony are going to help each other."

I nodded. He was right. That was exactly the way this would have to work. We talked about school the rest of the way there, but we had to park very far from the gravesite, so we walked quickly, no conversation possible in our hurried steps. We arrived just after the service started, and fortunately, the boys were hanging at the back of the small crowd, trying to look as though they hadn't been waiting for us. I moved to stand next to Soda, and Brad stood beside Steve. I saw the Darry and Ponyboy were already standing very close to one another.

None of us moved or spoke or made any sort of noise until we heard the first shovelful of dirt hit the coffin. If there is any sound that is likely to send chills down my spine, that's it. Even standing in the warmth of the sun, I shivered, and Soda moved closer to me. I glanced at him quickly and noticed that he was biting his lip. Slowly, I put my arm around his waist, and he put his around my shoulders. It only took a moment before I felt him start to shiver. It wasn't cold outside, but there was a chill that seemed to be spreading amongst us. Darry and Pony already had their arms around each other, Steve was standing as close to Brad as he possibly could without touching him.

And then Mrs. Mathews lost it again. That woman was the cause of every breakdown that day because she always tried to be so strong, and hearing her break was the worst thing any of us could imagine. I swallowed hard, aware that Soda may have still been biting his lip, but it wasn't doing him much good anymore as the tears spilled down his cheeks. He reached up with his free hand to wipe them away, but then he left his hand covering his eyes, and I couldn't just stand there any longer. I moved out from under his arm, and he removed his hand in surprise. I looked at him with tears in my own eyes, and his face crumpled as he put his arms around me and buried his face in my shoulder. I stroked his hair as I felt him shaking with silent sobs, and I noticed that Darry and Pony were finally hugging, and this time, they were both crying. Darry wasn't even trying to hide his tears, and Pony was holding on to him as tightly as he could. And on their other side, Brad had his arm around Steve, who stood with his head hanging down, his own shoulders shaking.

None of them calmed down until the service ended and everyone else moved away. They didn't want to leave their friend. Nothing seems more final than the walk away from a grave, and if anyone knew that, it was these boys who'd already had to do it too many times.

Finally, with our gentle urging, we got them moving. We agreed to meet back at Brad's house. They needed to be with us in a normal setting, and this one would be both private and comforting. It seemed to be our best bet. I just hoped they would be able to relax a little.


End file.
